“Law sakes, Jeff!” said Mandy, his hitherto ebon flame, “yer comes in like a turkey gobbler.  Doesn’t yer know me?”

“Sartin I know yer, Mandy.  You’se a good gal in you’se way, but, law! you’se had yer spell.  A culled gemmen kin change his min’ when he sees dat de ’finity’s done gone.”

“Look here, Jeff Wobbles, does yer mean ter give me de sack?”

“I mean ter gib yer good-ebenin’, Miss Mandy Munson.  Yer kyant ‘spec’ a gemmen to be degaged in de music an’ a gal at de same time,” replied Jeff, with oppressive gravity.

“Mister Johnsing, I’se tank yer fo’ yer arm,” said Mandy to a man near, with responsive dignity.  “Yer wait on me here, an’ yer kin wait on me home.  I’se ’shamed on mysef dat I took up wid a lout dat kin do nuffin but fiddle; but I was kine ob sorry fer him, he sich a fool.”

“Go ’long,” remarked Jeff, smiling mysteriously.  “Ef yer knowed, yer ‘ud be wringin’ yer han’s wuss dan yer did at de las’ ’tracted meetin’.  Ah, Miss Suky, dat you?” and Jeff for the first time doffed his hat.

“Wat’s in de win’, Jeff, dat yer so scrumptious an’ bumptious like dis ebenin’?” Suky asked a trifle scornfully.

“Wen de ’freshments parse ‘roun’, I’se ’steem it a oblergation ter me ef yer’ll let me bring yer de cake an’ cider.  I’se sumpin fer yer.  Gemmen an’ ladies, took yer places,” he added in a stentorian voice; “I ax yer’ sideration fer bein’ late, cose I had ’portant business; now,

  “Bow dar, scrape dar;
  Doan hang about de doah. 
  Shine up ter de pretty gals,
  An’ lead ’em on de floah”—­

his fiddle seconding his exhortation with such inciting strains that soon there was not a foot but was keeping time.

Suky observed that the musician had eyes for her only, and that toward all others he maintained his depressing superiority.  In vain did Mandy lavish tokens of favor on “Mister Johnsing.”  Jeff did not lose his sudden and unexpected indifference; while the great ring glistening on his finger added to the mystery.  There were many whispered surmises; but gradually the conjecture that he had “foun’ a heap ob Linkum money” was regarded as the best explanation of the marked change in his bearing.

Curiosity soon became more potent than Jeff’s fiddle, and the “’freshments” were hurried up.  So far from resenting this, Jeff put his violin under his arm and stalked across the improvised ball-room to Miss Suky, oblivious of the fact that she had a suitor on either side.

“Gemmen,” he remarked with condescension, “dis lady am degaged ter me durin’ de ‘freshments period,’” and he held out his arm in such a way that the massive ring glittered almost under Suky’s nose.  The magnet drew.  His arm was taken in spite of the protests of the enamored swains.

“Permit me de suggestation,” continued Jeff, “dat ter a lady ob yer ‘finement, dis place am not fit ter breve in.  Wha’s mo’, I doan ‘cline ter hab dese yer common niggahs a-whisperin’ an’ a-pintin’ an’ a-’jecturin’ about us.  Lemme yet yer a seat under de lite ob de risin’ moon.  De dusk’ll obscuate yer loveleness so I’se dar’ tell all de news.”